Shiloh Ranch: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 4)
Page 19
The chaos was visible to Chase, who briefly allowed himself a chuckle while remaining keenly focused on the task at hand—getting Alex back safely. He followed the men dragging her towards Junior’s house through his scope. It was dark, but the ambient light provided him a pretty good look at the enemy.
After KICKOFF was announced over the Tiger Resistance channel 1, which was designated by that day’s player, Beau Carey, several events disrupted Savannah.
Two of the disabled police cruisers operated by the local police exploded near the entrance to the Sheriff’s Department. This immediately drew a reaction from Junior’s men, who assumed the rescue attempt was coming at the Detention Center.
Round after round from high-powered hunting rifles rained down upon the checkpoint at the bridge. More men were redirected to shore up the barrier’s defense under the assumption that a frontal attack using vehicles was imminent.
On the other side of Cherry Mansion, the Hickory Pit Restaurant erupted into flames after several Molotov cocktails were hurled through its windows. A natural gas pipe feeding the restaurant’s kitchen broke, creating an explosion that added to the bedlam.
The distraction that caused Junior’s small contingent of protectors at Cherry Mansion the most consternation was the repeated barrage of fifty-caliber bullets that continuously slammed into the front of Cherry Mansion. From three-quarters of a mile away, a man sat at a table and quietly chambered round after round, took aim at the home he could barely see through his scope, and fired. Plate-glass windows shattered and the roof was pelted with the slugs.
It was the high-pitched sound of the approaching boats that cemented the diversion. Finally choosing a side of the property to defend, Junior’s men raced down the hill to intercept the watercraft. The boats sped toward them as the deputies opened fire, but the trolling boats advanced forward undeterred. Bullets riddled the small aluminum flat-bottom boats, causing them to rock slightly on the water. They stayed on course—harmlessly puttering toward the eastern banks of the river in front of Cherry Mansion.
Like a football play, the havoc lasted four to six seconds. Also, like in a football game, there were occasions when an over exuberant player took one additional second or two after the whistle blew and delivered a late hit, earning his team a fifteen-yard penalty. On the field of battle, a mistake like this could be deadly.
Chase had never taken his eyes off the prize. His guilt was overwhelming. He realized he’d fallen for Alex and now his mission in life was to get her away from Junior and safely back to Shiloh Ranch. He wasn’t going to let them take her away again.
Shouts came from his left as men raced from Riverside Drive toward the house. His job, along with his dad and Colton, were to pick off anyone who attempted to provide reinforcements. Jake and Colton opened fire on them. Chase remained focused on Alex and her captors.
The men dragged Alex through some landscaped beds and she fell to the ground. They brusquely hoisted her up and continued. Hedges continued to obstruct Chase’s view, but he was sure he could get a clean shot.
Chase took a deep breath and moved his finger onto the trigger of his rifle. He steadied his aim and blocked out the shouts coming from all around him. He got Alex into this mess and he would get her out of it. It was time.
He squeezed the trigger.
Chapter 37
Midnight, November 1
Cherry Mansion
Savannah
Ma Durham stood defiantly in the upstairs parlor of Cherry Mansion. She loved this room, as it provided her views of the river and the town, which she proudly controlled with an iron fist. As the glass shattered at her feet and the plaster from the ceiling fell on her graying hair, anger built up inside her.
Once again, her life was disrupted by one of those young hussies. Junior had brought that girl into Cherry Mansion, her place of refuge, to parade the girl like she was some exotic animal captured on an African safari. She indulged him while he went on this hunt for the family of three that had embarrassed him and his men. Dragging her inside Cherry Mansion in the middle of the night was unforgivable.
“Ma, you need to take cover!” screamed Junior through the dark. He’d run into all of the upper level rooms and doused the candles. Only an eerie fog of candlelight smoke could be seen through the moonlight finding its way through the sheers.
CRASH!
A bullet found its way through a downstairs window and shattered the mirror in the dining room, which had hung there since its predecessor was broken during the Battle of Shiloh. Ma flinched. Loud noises had startled her since the days when her now deceased husband Leroy would come home drunk and break things—including her and the boys.
Ma ignored the motorboats as they approached from the river. She was mesmerized by the scene in her yard. The girl was struggling to get away. Ma admired her tenacity as she attempted to break free from a certain fate.
She contemplated why Junior chose this one to take back to his house. He could have locked her up in the basement cells of Cherry Mansion with the others. No, he considered her special. Perhaps because she had eluded him before, or maybe it was because she presented a challenge. This young woman was strong-willed, and it could be that she represented everything Junior sought in a mate, other than his typical testosterone-fueled intentions.
Junior reached for his mother’s arm in an attempt to pull her to safety and it briefly broke Ma out of her trance. She relented and they turned toward the stairs. The effort might have saved her life.
CRACK! TING! HISS!
CRACK!
The entire sequence took a few seconds. The first shot missed its mark and punctured a hole in the five-hundred-gallon propane cylinder adjacent to Junior’s house. The second also missed but struck two gas cans sitting near to the ruptured propane tank, spilling the flammable liquid underneath the tanks.
CRACK—CRACK—CRACK!
A staccato burst came from one of Junior’s men.
Ma and Junior instinctively spun to view the shoot-out. In the darkness, a muzzle flash was seen to their left at the low-lying slave fence. It was the final shot, which illuminated the night sky with a fireball.
TING! BOOM!
The propane tank exploded and both ends were thrown hundreds of feet in opposite directions. The last gunshot had nicked metal, setting off a spark and a chain reaction between the propane-oxygen-gasoline mix.
Junior’s home was doused in flames and the old wooden structure ignited. The centuries-old magnolia trees surrounding the home were incinerated. Flames and dark smoke danced a hundred feet into the sky.
The concussive effect of the explosion shattered the upper windows of Cherry Mansion, and shards of glass pelted Ma as she curled up in a ball on the floor. Junior scrambled to help her and yelped as pieces of glass cut into his hands.
Ma gained her strength to view the carnage. As the sky was lit up in hues of orange and yellow, a figure emerged from the direction of the bridge—a man wearing a dark sweatshirt with the number 1 on the back. He ran past burning pieces of wood and dodged under collapsing tree branches. There was no hesitation. No fear. He was on a mission.
Burgundy. It was Hardin County Tigers burgundy. Number 1. Gunfire continued to fill the night air from all directions. The young man was undeterred. He’d reached his destination. Briefly, he crouched down and lifted up a lifeless body.
Number 1 began running towards the neighborhoods to Ma’s left. He was fired upon but escaped unscathed with the blonde hair of the young woman flowing over his shoulder.
Ma stared into the fire. The roof of Junior’s home collapsed to the ground, causing a rush of sparks and flames to gush out in all directions. Despite the intense heat created by the burning home and the surrounding vegetation, a chill came over her body. Ma unconsciously balled up her fists, unaware that a figure had joined her in the window. It wasn’t Junior.
It was an aberration — a ghost who had been in a similar position one hundred fifty years before. The hissing sounds c
oming from the flames provided a voice for Union Major General William Wallace, who whispered in Ma’s ear.
Fight fire with fire. Fight fire with fire.
Ma gritted her teeth and set her jaw. She mumbled the words but only loud enough for General Wallace to hear.
“When you poke the hornets’ nest, ya better make dang sure you kill ’em all. If you don’t, you’re gonna suffer their wrath.”
Thanks for reading!
The saga continues in …
HORNET’S NEST
Book five of The Blackout Series
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THANK YOU FOR READING SHILOH RANCH!
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Copyright Information
© 2017 Bobby Akart Inc. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Bobby Akart Inc.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Dedications
Acknowledgements
About the Author, Bobby Akart
About The Blackout Series
Previously in The Blackout Series
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Copyright Information